Old Fogeys
by Professor A. Silvertree
Summary: With this pandemic of beautiful young girls falling into Arda, one wonders, who would really go, certainly not a retiring history teacher, right?
1. Chapter 1

**Old Fogy**

Summary: With this strange epidemic of lovely young ladies landing in ME, one has to wonder who would really go to ME, certainly not a retiring history teacher, right?

Author's Note: I have to confess, I saw a prompt on another website many moons ago, asking to write a story where an old person took the spot that the typical Mary-sue tenth walker would take. I thought to myself, who would make a really good person to go to Middle-Earth. My old history teacher of course. Why, with his strange and exotic ways, being a retired hippie, obsessive Beatles fan, and totally off color sense of humor, he'd be perfect. One small thing though, Mr. "Grey" if you ever find this, I hope you think well of it, I only based the character loosely on what I got to know of you in your U.S. History classes.

**Updated A/N: I have re-re-edited the story, as it wasn't flowing quite as well as I wanted it to, so please feel free to take a gander!**

**Chapter One: Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!**

One of the greatest things about retiring is that the last month of work, you really don't need to do much work. Especially when you're a teacher. You can just show films pertaining to the topic, and everything else takes care of itself. And if your class is a bunch of brown nosing senior honors students. Heck, you don't even need to be there, the kids do it all on their own. Unfortunately for me, it isn't the last month of school, it's the middle of September. And these aren't brown nosing seniors, these are average juniors. That's means I actually have to do my work. June, you can't come soon enough.

"So how can tell me the circumstances leading up to the fall of Rome"

An uncomfortable silence is my answer. Not one of these slackers is willing to pour energy into firing up their woefully smooth brains.  
>"Sir?"<p>

"Ah, yes, Kender, Heather right?"

"Yes sir."

"Should have known, I've had all five of you. Tell me what the answer is."

"Well sir, I'm not entirely sure. But after the Roman Empire was split, Western Rome began steepley descending in power until the Visigoths were able to actually ransack the city of Rome itself." I pause for a few seconds. In all honesty, sometimes, I really dislike these über nerdy kids who actually like to learn. They inadvertently steal my thunder. And I for one do not like my thunder stolen. Seriously, how many 16 year olds actually know who the Visigoths were?

"Correct, however, I wouldn't say it was just that. It took a couple hundred years for the city of Rome itself to actually fall, it really started back when Emperor Constantine rebuilt the city which is now called Constantinople, the empire itself became to wide spread, so eventually it was split into East and West, you know, like west side story, only without the Jets and the Sharks," I checked to see who got my awesome theater and popculture tie in. (and Mrs. Kisher says I don't know culture.) And all of three students know what I'm talking about, including that brown-noser Kender. What is with that kid.

"Okay, work on your worksheets, page 26, and write down your notes for this chapter, I will be grading them."

A general murmur of annoyance swept through the students as they pulled out their books and attempted to look busy while they talked to their friends. I, meanwhile, was sitting at my desk, pretending to look busy while I daydreamed about my wife. We've been married for 39 years, and I still think she's the hottest woman on the whole planet, granted, I'm older now, and sometimes I need help from my little blue friend, but today I don't think I'll need his help to remind my Pam how much I- was that the bell- Sweet Jesus I'm out of here! Let's see, papers in my backpack, mountain dew, bong. Just kidding, wanting to make sure you were paying attention. I'm about out my classroom door when Matt Thankos, the English teacher across the hall, and my best friend stood in the doorway, meaty arms crossed over his deep, barrel chest.

"And where do you think you're going?"

I give him a quizzical look, then smile and wink at him, "to show Pam just how much I've missed her today." Mark smiled knowingly, then put his meaty arm around me and steered me down the hall, away from the sweet freedom of the door to the back parking lot.

"Matt, where are you taking me?"

"Staff meeting tonight, remember?"

Realization dawns on me, and I groan my complaints to the drop ceiling above.

"Now, now, it'll be alright. I happen to know that Hunter has a game of golf this afternoon, so he'll keep it short."

"Yeah, and Rome was built in a day." I retort at him sarcastically.

"Seventh hour is Ancient History with the Juniors?"

"Well yeah, they only have the best teacher for it."

Alan Aldin, the Algebra and PreCalculus teacher, came up and draped an arm over each of us. Dave Elwood, or as I like to call him, Mr. Cleans' good looking twin, walking behind us. He (Dave) let out a snort and replied,

"that's because he IS ancient history."

"Sure am," I replied, "Ol' Moses still owes me five bars of gold and two wives from our last round of poker."

I chuckled with Matt as we left the young'uns to get their breath back. I have no fear of those young bucks trying to vie for my spot of coolest teacher of the year. I suppose I should explain what I mean before I sound like I'm full of myself or something. Which I'm not, I'm just that awesome.

Every year at the homecoming dance, the seniors get together and cast ballots as to who will bear the title of coolest teacher in the school, and for twenty years running, give or take a few years when certain greek English teachers decide to bribe students with lamb roasts to curry their votes, I have been coolest in the school. (and yes, it might be a silly tradition that holds no merit in the real world, but I took the vow of poverty as a teacher, I'll take what I can get.)

The meeting was going on as long as I predicted. Hunter droned on and on about budgets, who got to use the gourd to take students on field trips and when (the gourd, by the way, is one of the school busses) Why we can't use the suggestion box to campaign for a Mexican fiesta/ lamb roast every Friday.(Which I'm pretty sure is Matt's solution for everything) And a reminder that we had pep rally next Friday for the football team. We're currently 5-0. There were of course, the obligatory angry glares from Van Bell and Kisher, the economics and one of the English teachers respectively, probably some off handed sexist comment I supposedly made. I, for the life of me, can't figure out when and where, but I guess I did.

Three hours later, the meeting has ended; Thankos follows me to my car. We live two streets from each other, and his cars' in the shop. We exit at the back of the building near the field house. It's nearly six, and there's still a student here, what the heck. Oh, it's that nerdy student of mine from my last period Ancient History class.

"Heather, what are you still doing here?" Matt says, loud enough to call her attention to us.

"Oh, mom probably forgot to pick me up from practice again. She does that a lot."

Mark turns to me, silently asking me what we should do. I sigh and my shoulders sag. What were we going to do? I would offer to give her a ride home, but that was a HUGE no-no. I planned on retiring, not going to prison, I'm so handsome that I' be in big trouble if I dropped the soap.

"Do you have a cell," Matt asked

"No, we can't afford those yet, maybe in a few years when they're cheaper."

"That's alright," I say, "ten more years and we'll all be beaming around like they do on Star Trek."

"You always say that," Matt said as he handed Heather his cell phone to call her mom to pick her up.

"Well it's true, we'll all get our own P.A.D.S., we'll be beamed from one location to another, wouldn't surprise me at all if we eventually meet Klingons."

"Are Klingons the ones with the pointy ears, like that Spore dude?" Heather pipes up in between the conversation with her mother.

Matt gives me a side long smirk as I feel my ears bypass red and go straight to purple.

"What's that mom? Oh, I'm with Mr. Grey and Mr. Thankos. Well, I guess they had a meeting or something. What? Are you sure? Maybe you should ask. Okay, hold on a second, I'll put 'em on the phone."

"Do you know nothing of pop culture?" I whisper at her with a mock glare as Mark took the phone

"Yes, just not Star Trek."

"Well, Klingons are the ones with the wrinkly foreheads, their really war-like and they generally tend not to be very nice. Spock is a Vulcan, sort of like a space elf."

Matt meanwhile, was giving me an incredulous look while talking to Mrs. Kender.

"Yeah, that's on our way, what? Well, two male teachers in a car with a female student doesn't look very good but-what's that. Well no, but-yeah, I guess we could, is that verbal permission then? Okay, I'll let Bob know, he's driving today."

Matt hung up his phone and pocketed it.

"Mrs. Kender asked if we could bring Heather home, apparently they're having problems with a cow giving birth, they can't spare anyone to come get her right now. She's given us her permission."

Matt took a breath and gives me an incredulous look, "space elves, really Bob."

"What, their tall, pointy eared, only have one expression, and tend to be very stuck up."

"Elves aren't stuck up," Heather pipes up from the back seat.

"Yeah they are, I've read the Lord of the Rings, those guys are way old fashioned. Probably all have sticks shoved up all their-"

"Bob!"

"What!"

"No language. And you so have not read Lord of the Rings."

"I'm reading it right now, since I saw they were making a movie from it."

"Oh, what chapter are you on?"

"A short cut to mushrooms, I've never read it before, it's quite good."

"I don't think I even got that far. I eventually gave up and rented that 70's cartoon by Bakshi."

"Ugh!" Heather and Matt both groaned at once.

"What?" I asked defensively as I started the car.

"That is just a terrible outrage." Matt said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Silence filled the car for a short while as I navigated us to county road 475 N.

"Well, at least there's a real movie being made." Heather adds

"You mentioned that earlier, there's a movie being made?" Matt asks

"A real one, with real actors?" I add.

"Yeah, it's being filmed in New Zealand."

CRASH! BOOM!

Lightning hit the road in front of us, and the rain started coming down in torrents. That's Indiana in the fall for you. Unpredictable weather. Then again, Weather on the south shore of Lake Michigan is always unpredictable, no matter the time of year. I put my brights on as well as my wipers. Slowing down for the water on the road.

We remain in silence as we make our way down 625 E. This seems to be a road straight out of a horror film, steep hills, woods right up to the road. We come around a hairpin turn and I have to hit the brakes, there's a river rainwater runoff running across the road, and just as I hit the water, a strange blue light shines from the back seat and lighting hits the car. When we open our eyes, we're off the road and about to hit the mother of all trees. We all yell as I hit the breaks. Stopping inches from the big tree.

"Holy Shit!" Matt ejaculates. I have a vague idea in my head of telling HIM off for actually swearing, but I'm too busy holding onto the steering wheel for dear life as I try, in vain, to return my heart rate to normal, and to think I left my blood pressure medicine at home today.

"How did we get off the road?" Heather asks quietly from the back seat after a few minutes of silence, "there was a ten foot hill going down on our right and a twenty foot one going up on our left?"

"Honestly," I start, but then, lighting flashes again and there is something in the group of trees in front of us. I turn on my Brights, and for a moment, dead silence fills the car. Then Heather screams. There, not twenty feet away, is the ugliest, creepiest thing I've ever seen on God's green earth. It's probably about six foot tall, with mottled grey skin, bald, long pointy ears and teeth, wearing a strange assortment of what looks to be armor, and holding a nasty looking…sword? It brings a hand up to shield its' eyes against the bright light and-wait, did it just hiss.

There's a bump on the rear passenger side door, another one of those icky things is hitting the car experimentally. Heather screams again. Matt is yelling, about to open his door to see what he can do to fight these things. Since, honestly, I don't think they're friendly; they don't exactly give off that kind of vibe. Suddenly, an idea hits me, and I act.

I slam my palms on the steering wheel, right on the horn, and give out the loudest, longest blast of my car horns life. The creatures, since I honestly don't think their human, shriek and run off back into the woods, disappearing into the night. Silence fills the car once again.

"What the hell was that?" Matt's question, the one that we're all asking, breaks the silence.

"I don't know," I say as I start the car up-it had somehow been turned off-and put it in reverse, "but I ain't sticking around to find out." I turn to see where I'm backing up and find that there is a tree not three feet from the back bumper.

"The hell?" Matt and Heather both turn around to see what I see.

"What the?"

"We must have slid sideways down the embankment before almost hitting that tree," Matt reasons, as he opens his door to the storm still going on, "do you have a flashlight in your trunk Bob?"

"Better, I have a 10 million candle watt power Black and Decker portable spotlight, fully charged."

"Really Bob?"

"What, I packed for the Feast of the Hunter's Moon early this year, so sue me."

"Feast of the Hunter's Moon," Heather asks from the backseat, as she undid her seat belt and got out of the car with Matt.

"It's a historical reenactment of the fur trapper period down in West Laffeyette, and no way, you stay in the car. Matt-I mean- Mr. Thankos and I will figure out how to get us out of here," I say as I get out of the car, flipping out my cell phone to see if I can get a signal. The police sure would be handy right now with those things on the loose, if they were even there to begin with.

"If it's all the same to you sir, I'd rather keep busy by keeping an eye out, we don't know if those things will be coming back," Heather replied as she got into the front passenger seat and turned the radio on.

"What are you doing?" Matt asked

"Checking to see what radio stations we can get, if we can get any stations, we might get an idea of where we are." We waited for a few minutes as Heather tuned through nothing but static, not even on the AM channels. We let out a collective sigh of defeat. Matt changed the subject.

"Were those even real, or were we just hit a little hard by that lightning?" Mark hauled out the spotlight and began shinning it around. We look around us for a minute or two, and then give each other a questioning glance. Mark voices the question I'm sure we were all thinking.

"The only tire tracks start three feet behind us, almost straight out of that tree, and there are no tire tracks to either side of the vehicle. How did we get here?"

"That's not the only question we should be asking," Heather said from the right front of the car, looking out into the darkness with her flashlight. We both go over to her and stand on either side of her. Up ahead is a shocking sight none of us ever expected to see. Twenty yards away, into the trees, is a forty foot rock face, grey, probably granite. We don't have granite in northwest Indiana, only limestone. Looking up with the spotlight, the cliffs go even higher, and then, lighting cracked, and a mountain became visible in its brief moment of luminescence. There are no mountains in Indiana. I voiced the frightening thought we all had in our minds.

"Where the hell are we?"


	2. chapter two: across the universe

**Old Fogey**

**Chapter Two: Across the Universe**

**A/N**: The italicized portions in this chapter are to signify when elvish is spoken. And because it was brought to my attention…

**Disclaimer**: I am not Tolkien's animated corpse; therefore, this is obviously not an original work by the self-same person. This is a work of fanfiction using the characters and world Professor Tolkien created. I am not making any money off of this (which kind of sucks because I'm out of a job and could use some money). Also, I only slightly own Matt, Bob, and Heather, as they are based off of real people.

Chapter Two: Across the universe.

(Flashback)

"That's not the only question we should be asking," Heather said from the right front of the car, looking out into the darkness with her flashlight.

We both go over to her and stand on either side of her. Up ahead is a shocking sight none of us ever expected to see. Twenty yards away, into the trees, is a forty foot rock face, grey, probably granite. We don't have granite in northwest Indiana, only limestone.

Looking up with the spotlight, the cliffs go even higher, and then, lighting cracked, and a mountain became visible in its brief moment of luminescence. There are no mountains in Indiana. I voiced the frightening thought we all had in our minds.

"Where the hell are we?"

(End Flashback)

I'm snapped out of my shock when I feel a small(er) body shift closer to me. I look to my left, Heather is in total shock, which is about how I'm feeling right now. I look down and give her what I hope is a comforting pat on the back, school policy be damned, we just found ourselves lost in a strange wilderness.

"Right," Matt jolts us from our catatonic states after a few minutes of dumb shock, "it seems we've been kidnapped and brought somewhere. Mountain region, I don't recognize them, it could be the Canadian Rockies."

"Canadian Rockies," Heather says, confused, "but why? What purpose is there in kidnapping two teachers and a student? Unless there's something either of you would like to confess to." She turned to Matt on her other side and gives him a mock glare.

Mark chuckled and ruffled her hair, "I don't know, but if that's the case, we need to gather as much gear as we can, and start heading south."

"South? Why should we head south," Heather asked. I had to force down the urge to roll my eyes.

"And here I thought you paid attention in my class," her confused look prompts me to further explain, although, really, I shouldn't have to, "Canada is north of America," I begin, trying my best to only sound a little bit condescending. It's late, I'm tired, and it's a stupid question, give me a break. "And the farther north you go in Canada, the less populated it is. So when we go south, we go towards the safety of America, and civilization." Honestly, why south.

"But what if we're not in Canada?" Seriously, we are in a very bizarre situation, it's the middle of the night, I'm cold, tired, I'm hungry, I want my lazy-boy, and she wants to argue with me? It's times like this that I remember why I'm retiring, teenagers. Fortunately, Matt seems to have saved some of his vast reserves of patience for her.

"Any way you look at it, we've been brought to an unknown location with little to know camping and hiking equipment, and those "things" didn't look to friendly, even if it was just people in costume. My bet is that we've been abducted by some sick bast-dude," Matt corrected himself for Heather's sake; don't know why though, by this point it doesn't matter, "Our best bet is to move before they can find us again. So," he turned and headed back for the car, "let's go ahead and get as much from the car as we can. Come on Bob, you've been hiking before, what do we need."

I pause to think for a minute. This just can't be happening. It makes no sense. I'm a school teacher; things like this don't happen to school teachers.

"Okay," I lick my lips nervously, "we probably can't bring the car," Matt and Heather both give me a look as if to say, "No sh*t Sherlock," I ignore them and continue, "We'll want to get the gas out of the tank, we can use it for fire starter. I have cans in the trunk."

Suddenly, it hits me, again. I had all my period gear for the Feast of the Hunter's Moon in my trunk: cast iron cookware, blanket roll, clothes, hatchet, knives, matches, flint and tinder, and my handy dandy survival kit, complete with first-aid and booklets, I love booklets.

"We need to pop out the headlights, we can use those to help light fires and signal planes. Uh, let's see, oh! We can take the wheel lock from my trunk as a weapon." I say as I reach around and open said trunk as Matt goes to open the hood and begin taking out the headlights. Heather comes with me and begins to take out the various things in my trunk. Blankets, we'll keep those, the bag of recyclables, not so much.

"Is that a hachet, Mr. Grey?"

"Call me Bob, and yes, yes it is," I say, giving it a look of tender loving care, this thing would be very useful to us in the coming days. I lug it out, and all my gear, it's heavier than I remember, and bring in to Mark and the big light. Then I see something else in the bottom of the trunk, it looks like my fist aid kit, only bigger, and my first-aid kit is currently at my feet. I take it out and hold it up to the light. A smile spread across my face, I love my wife.

"Is that what I think it is?" Matt stops what he's doing.

"What is it?"

"Oh yes Matt, it is."

"What is it?"

"Why was it still in your car?"

"What is it?"

"I don't know, Pam maybe. All I know is-"

"WHAT THE HELL IS IT BOB?"

Matt and I turn towards Heather, who is looking rather perturbed. This kid has always been the shy, quiet, never talk back sort of kid. What happened?

"It's a survival kit, better than the one down at my feet. Pam must have packed it for me, she knows how clumsy I am." I remark whistfully. No one says anything for a few seconds.

"Well, that's handy," Matt says as he turns back to finish taking out the headlights, "hey Bob, do you have any screwdriver in that bag, perchance?"

"I have Phillips and Flathead, which do you want?" Matt and I turn to the trunk, where Heather had gone. She was standing there with a baseball bat slung over her shoulders.

"How do you have screwdrivers," I ask, taking the bat from my trunk out of Heather's hands. I knew there was a good reason to be the assistant coach for the girls varsity softball team.

"Well, you're not the only one who likes to be prepared," Heather opened the drivers side rear door and pulled out her gym back, which now looked suspiciously large to me, how did I not see that before?

Heather kneeled down and opened it up. Inside was a mess of any number of random things, electrical tape, a large box of band-aids, what looks to be lots of different sizes of clothing, a thin blanket, a small tool kit, and both the biggest Swiss army knife I've ever seen, and the largest roll of duct tape I have ever seen.

"Why-"

"Because, to be honest, I'm usually left to my own devices, mom and dad don't have much time for me, so I usually have to take care of myself, so I try to bring everything I could possibly need with me. I'd rather not have to bug mom and dad all the time." She goes to give Matt the tool kit as I reach into her bag and pull out a sweatshirt, that thing could easily be too big on Matt, and he's an extremely burly guy, let alone Heather, who, although tall, is a little on the thin side, like she doesn't eat enough or something.

"And when will you need a 3X sweatshirt." Matt raised an eyebrow at my comment, but deigned not to contribute to my imagination.

"I like roomy clothes, besides, if it's bigger, I can fit more layers under it." So much for catching this kid off guard. Oh well, might as well drain the gas into the cans while I'm thinking about it. I have two cans, so I only fill one up with gas. The other I'll save for water. I haven't used them yet, so luckily the water won't taste like petroleum.

Fifteen minutes later, we're ready to head out into the night. Matt is carrying the Survival bag, and I've emptied my backpack of papers and school things so that I can lighten Heather and Matt's loads. We might be traveling cross country for a while, so it'll be a good idea to make sure no one person gets too tire too fast. I bid farewell to my car, since, honestly, as much as I hate the thought, I'll probably never see that car again. We check the compass that came with the survival kit, and start heading south, checking the compass every so often.

The night has been beginning to wear on, and I find that, not only has my adrenaline worn off, but my mind is beginning to wander. I keep thinking how and why this is happening, and perhaps more importantly, what is Pam doing right now. I called and told her as we were leaving that I'd see her soon. Is she worried, has she called anyone to ask where I am yet? Has she called the kids to ask where I am? I turn to see if Heather's alright, heaven knows this has been horrible for me and Matt, and we're both adults. I hate to think of how terrifying this must be for a teenager. I tap Matt on the shoulder to get his attention. He turns to me and gives me a questioning look.

"What time is it," I ask, keeping my voice low, for no apparent reason. Matt checks his watch.

"Eleven thirty, think we should bunk down for the night?"

I look around at the moonlight forest; it's so peaceful and quiet, maybe even too quiet. My mind goes back to those things we saw when we first woke up in this forest. The way their armor absorbed the light, didn't even reflect it. And their faces, cold, cruel, more frightening than any mask I ever saw at any Halloween haunted house, ever.

"Yeah, I'm not sure if we should fully unpack though, just find a sheltered spot and take a nap."

"Not set up camp? Why, are you thinking of those people dressed like monsters," Matt asked.

"Yeah, it's just-I don't like this. If we've been kidnapped, what's to say whoever did this isn't following us, just waiting for us to go to sleep." I turn to ask Heather if she'd like to bunk down, but she's not there. She's, in fact, a few yards ahead of us, looking around questioningly.

"Heather?" I say in a loud whisper. We've been whispering since we started out four hours ago.

"Do you hear that?" Matt and I stop and listen, turning our heads this way and that, trying to catch whatever the sound is that Heather's hearing.

"No, what should we be hearing," Matt asks, a small bit of trepidation creeping into his voice. He has never been too much of an outdoors sort of person. The closest he gets to nature is when he grills lamb in the backyard.

"I don't know, it's just-I've been camping loads of times, and even at night, it's not this quiet. There must be something out there that's scaring everything else off."

There, she said it, the thing I've been trying not to think about. This day has been pretty bad, and her fears have just made it worse.

"Alright, we'd better find a sheltered place to bunk for a few hours," I scanned the forest around us by the light of the moon, which, much to my chagrin is full tonight. We begin walking forward again, searching the trees for a more sheltered location.

"Somewhere defendable too," Heather and I both look over at Matt, did he just say what I think he just said?

"If those things come back after us, we're going to want to be somewhere where they can't sneak up on us and take us by surprise-"

"What are you, Rambo," I interject. Matt gives me a look and continues, "I saw an outcropping of rocks to our right, let's see if we can find any sheltered spaces over there."

He settles the pack higher on his back and starts off towards the rocky outcropping with purpose. Well, so much for my stint as team leader.

A shallow cave with a three foot wide, six foot high ledge about ten feet back becomes our base camp. The two sleeping bags are rolled out, the blankets we brought with us serve as Heather's bed, and Matt and I flip a coin to see who gets first watch. So by the time we actually get to the sleeping part, its 12:15. Heather wishes us a good night, and Matt sits up against one of the side walls near the entrance, wrapped in sleeping bag, flashlight and baseball bat near at hand. He says he'll wake me somewhere between 3:30 and 4:oo o'clock to take the second shift so he can get some sleep himself.

I settle myself down into my sleeping bag and find that, even though so much has happened to me today, I can't sleep. Thoughts keep running through my mind, about Pam, and the kids, the grandkids. Whether or not the principal will excuse me for not bringing the kids' homework with me to grade. I even have an old Beatles song stuck in my head, not that I don't usually end up with one of their songs banging around in my noggin, but it's late, I'm exhausted, and it's most unwelcome.

A hand shaking my shoulder jolts me from sleep. It takes me a minute to remember everything. But then my back is loudly reminding me of what is going on, and, more importantly, what kind of surface I was sleeping on last night. I groan and wordlessly, Matt and I exchange places and equipment. The air is pleasant at the mouth of the cave, and I find myself drifting off to sleep, the threat of the things from earlier tonight far from my mind.

A sound of shuffling a ways off and low grunts awakens me. It's not coming from Matt and Heather, which means it coming from outside. I immediately sit up and listen closely. It sounds like, people, almost. But these people seem to have a bad cold or something, because they all have this scratchy, guttural sound to their voices, like they've been gargling liquid propane or something, and it seems to be in a language I don't know.

I grab the baseball bat at my side and slide out of my sleeping bag as quietly as I can. I make my way back to Matt at the back of the cave, giving up my view of the forest.

But I risk it, since I'd rather have another person awake and ready should something go down.

I shake Matt into wakefulness and he props himself up on his arm. Unfortunately, it wakes up Heather, who was sleeping against his back. Quietly, I gesture for the two of them to be quiet, then I gesture for Matt to come with me to the front of the cave. He nods and pulls the hatchet out from under his sleeping bag. He then gives me the wait a minute sign, then turns to Heather. He motions that she should put the bags up on the ledge and then proceeds to help Heather get up on the ledge herself. That done, Matt and I quietly hurry to the entrance of the cave as the shuffling and grunting gets closer.

Suddenly, around the corner, five creatures appear. It's the same two creatures from last night, and they brought friends, and if I thought they were frightening at night, they were possibly even ickier in the light of dawn.

Both parties remain motionless for a second. They've obvious not counted on us being here. Then, all hell brakes loose. The two creatures closest to us snarl and pull out the nastiest looking swords I've ever seen. Curved and jagged, obviously meant for inflicting pain. The three in the back also draw their swords, but they hang back, probably to see if the two in front can take us out. Matt lets out a roar and charges them, hatchet flying. He engages ugly number one while ugly number two comes at me with a vengeance. I yell and hold up my bat in defense as the thing starts swinging it's sword, bashing down on my bat repeatedly. I just try to fend it off. I've realized-quite suddenly-that this is in fact, a fight to the death.

Matt manages to get the sword from ugly number one, and kills it with a jab through the chest. But that doesn't do much, as the three that were hanging back let out a bellow of rage and close in on us. Matt and I have ended up against the back wall, fighting to keep ourselves and Heather alive. Suddenly, from above, Heather starts pouring the can of gasoline on the four remaining creatures.

"Duck!" I hear Heather call out. Trusting that there was a reason for it, I plowed into Matt just as I felt a great whoosh, and the air was suddenly gone in a great explosion of heat. I looked up just fast enough to see the remaining four creatures stampede out of the cave in every direction, their bodies burning. I stand up, making sure I'm not on fire myself, although I'm pretty sure my bald patch just got a bit bigger.

"What the hell was that?" Matt turns to look at Heather, who is kneeling on the ledge, panting. Her eyebrows are singed off, and her clothes have large burn marks in them and are smoking.

"I remembered Mrs. Lutz's chemistry class," both Matt and I give her the same confused expression, "Hairspray is flammable. So I started spraying hairspray when the creatures came in, then I doused the things in gasoline. Then I lit a match and sprayed the hairspray into the flame. It created a huge fireball and lit the things on fire."

Matt and I shared a look and chuckled a bit.

"Oh my gosh, Mr. Grey, your back!"

"What?" Matt spun me around as I became keenly aware of a pain springing up in place of my adrenaline.

"The hairspray, it created such a big fireball that it blew back to the can, I had to toss it before it exploded. I didn't realize it was you it hit!" Heather looked so miserable and dejected. It wasn't her fault, even if it hurt worse than my surgeries.

I felt so bad. She felt so bad about hurting me. I wanted to let the kid know it was okay, that I wasn't mad at her. That face reminded me of my own kids when they were little. However, the shrapnel in my back had other plans, so I let Matt do the talking for me. He's better at the whole stringing together of the words and making a coherent, heartfelt sentence type thing out of them anyways.

"Heather, it's okay, it was an accident, the thing we need to do now it get the shrapnel out of Bob's back. So I need you to get the blankets, the first aid kit, and the medical care guide out of the packs, okay?"

The next thing I know, Matt is helping me to take off my shirt and lie flat on my stomach on the blankets arranged on the floor of the cave. I hear him talking to Heather through the pain.

Man, shrapnel really sucks, I mean I know it's painful and all that, but actually having shrapnel imbedded in your back is excruciatingly painful. And then I get the most random and useless thought running through my head. You know, when I was a younger man, I would have probably bragged about getting shrapnel scars, but now that I'm older, and I've already had a back surgery for the compressed discs from my years of cross country running, so I really don't appreciate back pain any more.

The cool breeze on my back after the painful peeling of my shirt does little to make me feel better. Matt is talking to me again, something about tweezers, iodine, and flushing. But I'm not entirely certain what he's talking about, whatever it is, I hope it's that he's found a cabin with plumbing. Nope, judging by the scream of pain coming from yours truly, that's not what he was talking about. Matt has to pull out each individual piece of spray can from my back, and there were some very small ones in there. Honestly, it's the small ones that hurt the most. Heather kept apologizing to me, and what I could see of her face, she had blood smears, and she was pale, dangerously so.

It took two agonizing hours without any painkillers, but all the shrapnel was pulled out, my wounds were flushed, and the largest ones had been stitched up. Matt helped pull me up, and Heather handed me a large grey lump of fabric, it was the sweater I had made a remark about last night. Which turned out to be a lucky thing she had it, it was big and roomy, so it was easy to get on and off.

"Is that a mask it's wearing?" Matt and I looked up to see Heather standing over the thing that Mark killed during the fight.

"If it is," Matt said, going over to kneel next to it, "it sure is a hell of a good one." He started probing for an edge to the mask, and as Heather and I looked on, Matt's face became darker and darker. Obviously not liking whatever it was he was finding, or, not finding.

"Well," I asked, "what's the verdict Doc."

"This isn't human."

"I'm sorry, come again," Matt turned to face me, no trace of any kind of humor on his face, "I'm serious, this is no mask, this is its skin." I felt myself blanch, and I leaned back against the wall, feeling suddenly like you do when you donate more than your fair share of blood.

"Are you saying-"

"This thing isn't human, not in the slightest."

"_Halt!"_

The three of us whipped our heads towards the cave's entrance. Three tall men were standing there, strung long bows aimed at us. We chose not to try to reach for our weapons this time. Instead we made the international sign of surrender, otherwise known as "hands up".

"_Who are you? What are you doing here? Is it you that has killed this orc and the others?"_ The one in the middle, who I assumed was the leader, started shouting words at us. Too bad I don't speak gibberish. We looked at each other, trying to figure out what to do. I decided to take the initiative.

"Hello, I'm Bob, this is Matt, and this is Heather, we come in peace." I said, giving the Vulcan salute, pausing to let my sorry attempt at humor sink in. Hopefully, these guys spoke English.

The two men on the either side of the leader turned and muttered to him in their language, which, despite my best efforts, still sounded like rhythmic gibberish.

"_What should we do? They don't seem to speak Sindarin, and I don't know about you lot, but my Westron is negligible at best." _

As the leader turned to talk to his subordinate, the light from the rising sun lit up the side of his face, and we all sucked in a breath. Heather turned to us and pointed at the men.

"Did you see their ears?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"They're elves," we turned to look at Heather. She had a dumbfounded look on her face. I'm pretty sure we had a similar look on our faces as well.


	3. Chapter 3: Act Naturally

**Old Fogeys: **

**Chapter Three: "Act Naturally"**

**A/N:** Hello any and all who cares to read this fiction. It is I, the Professor, once again. I am sorry for any delay you might have had in this chapter. I hit a bit of a rough patch trying to figure out some of the timing in this story, as I am trying to remain true to both book and movie timelines. This is a feat in and of itself. Again, italicized words are in Sindarin. I would like to thank my reviewers, even if I only have a few. That being said, please review, I know it's time out of your day, but it makes me feel ever so much better, and inflates my ego. Now, without further delay, allow me to introduce you back into the harrowing situation Bob and his fellow misinformed adventurers currently find themselves in.

**Chapter Three: "Act Naturally"**

(Flashback)

"_Halt!"_

The three of us whipped our heads towards the cave's entrance. Three tall men were standing there, strung long bows aimed at us. We chose not to try to reach for our weapons this time. Instead we made the international sign of surrender, otherwise known as "hands up".

"_Who are you? What are you doing here? Is it you that has killed this orc and the others?"_ The one in the middle, who I assumed was the leader, started shouting words at us. Too bad I don't speak gibberish. We looked at each other, trying to figure out what to do. I decided to take the initiative.

"Hello, I'm Bob, this is Matt, and this is Heather, we come in peace." I said, giving the Vulcan salute, pausing to let my sorry attempt at humor sink in. Hopefully, these guys spoke English.

The two men on the either side of the leader turned and muttered to him in their language, which, despite my best efforts, still sounded like rhythmic gibberish.

"_What should we do? They don't seem to speak Sindarin, and I don't know about you lot, but my Westron is negligible at best." _

As the leader turned to talk to his subordinate, the light from the rising sun lit up the side of his face, and we all sucked in a breath. Heather turned to us and pointed at the men.

"Did you see their ears?" Mark asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"They're elves," we turned to look at Heather. She had a dumbfounded look on her face. I'm pretty sure we had a similar look on our faces as well.

(End Flashback)

Unfortunately, we didn't have long to dwell on our most recent discovery, as Mr. Leader and his two subordinates chose this time to end their little mini-conference and turn their attentions back our way.

"_Come, you will go with us before our commander, this way."_ Mr. Leader gestured towards us, and then out into the forest. We still didn't understand him. After three more attempts to get us to go outside, and a muttered question to Matt on what did they think they wanted on my part, I guess Mr. Leader didn't want to wait any longer. He turned away from us for a second, frustration evident on his face, and then he turned towards us, pulling out his sword as he did so.

I'm only a little bit proud when I say that we reacted quite fast for men in our fifties, or in Matt's case, forties. Oh who am I kidding, we were awesome. I grabbed Heather and pushed her against the ledge, and I think I told her to grab some more hairspray if she had it. Heather grabbed the hatchet and tossed it up to Matt, who deftly grabbed it and swung to face the pointy eared men.

It didn't do much good though, because leader man-elf…thing-did this weird Spock thing where he was suddenly right in front of him. Matt swung at him, and I was sure this guy was going to get it. I mean, it's Matt, he may be short, but he's like, almost three hundred pounds of muscle, and no, I'm not exaggerating.

However it was so weird, because the leader dude just grabbed the hatchet, mid swing, then ripped it from his hands and did this crazy ninja move and Matt ended up on the floor, completely winded. Then he stepped over Matt, and he didn't even look like he had done more than flip his rather girlishly long hair behind him. Oh, wait, never mind, he did just flip his hair back, man that was a total Baywatch moment. He stood there, pointed his sword at Heather and I, and began speaking that fancy gibberish again.

"_I don't know who you are, or how you came to be here, but I will not brook any further retaliation from you, come out of the cave, or I will mortally wound the foolish attacker on the floor behind me."_

Mr. Leader growled menacingly and pointed his sword at Matt, then, with his other hand, he pointed first at us, then at the mouth of the cave and the other two-whatever they ares. I go the message this time.

"Come on Heather."

"No way Mr. Grey, those guys just k.o.'d Mr. Thankos."

"Heather," I turned to face her, time to use my thirty plus years as a parent to good use,

"We are being held at sword point by what could very well be Santa's renegade samurai elves. So as your guardian for right now, I'm telling you, get out there," Heather gave me a wide eyed look, I'm not sure if it was because of how serious I actually was, or because I used the term "Santa's renegade samurai elves."

"NOW." I barked. Heather hopped to right quick and practically sailed past me, Matt, and Mr. Leader to the mouth of the cave with her hands held up above her head. One of the elves motioned for Heather to sit, and much to my relief, she did. Then Mr. Leader motioned for me to follow and I did just that, sitting down next to her outside of our little cave. The leader came out, dragging Matt out by his upper arm and depositing him on my other side.

"Matt, are you okay," I asked, helping him to sit up and take deep breaths.

"I will be in a minute, but I got to tell you," he turned to look at me, his nose looked rather broken and bleeding, "I wouldn't mess with that leader guy, he has one hell of a punch."

"That's what he did, all I saw was a blur and then you were on the ground," I said, trying to lighten up the mood just a little bit, "kind of like Spock, which makes my comment about Vulcans being space elves accurate."

"Nah, it was something between Luke Skywalker, and Jackie Chan," he said, cracking a smile of his own.

One of the subordinates came out with our gear, and he and the other subordinate put one on Matt's back, then proceeded to haggle over who would get the second pack. Then they motioned for me to put the third one on. I groaned, this is really going to pull on my stitches, not to mention I never got any pain killers for that. Heather bent down quickly and picked up the pack. Or, at least, she tried to.

"_What are you doing young lady?"_

"_Absolutely not, you may be out in the wilderness, but we are still upstanding ellon."_

"_You are much too small to carry a pack so large. Give it to you elder, he will carry it."_

"_Put it down!"_

We all looked confusedly at them, what was the matter with Heather grabbing the pack. Sure would save me the pain of carrying it with my back the way it is.

The leader guy grabbed the pack from her and shoved it at me, motioning for me to put it on. I grimaced for the second time in a span of two minutes; this was really going to hurt.

I shrugged it on slowly as one of the other guys pulled Matt to his feet and gave him a pack. Every part of my back screamed in pain as the straps dug into the wounds and stitches.

"_Let us be off, the commander will send another party for us if we tarry much longer."_

Mr. Leader, who I was really starting to dislike by the way, made some more gibberish noises and motioned for us to go south and east.

Two hours passed, and I was really hurting. Having lots of puncture wounds and gashes turning your back into Swiss cheese will do that to you. Also, I would like to say, that I never wish to describe my own back as "Swiss cheese" ever again, it's just wrong. Some cuts had opened, and caused my sweatshirt to stick to my back. Every move pulled something which aught not be pulled. I felt myself begin to slow down, little bit by little bit.

After a while, my vision began to get blurry. Maybe I should just take a nap on this nice moss. No, sleeping is bad right now, very bad. I blink and suddenly I find that I'm on my back, staring into five worried and or mildly concerned faces.

It takes me a few seconds to realize that I'm on my back, and oh does it hurt.

"OW!" I groaned, trying to sit up.

"No Mr. Grey, stay down," Heather said gently, pushing on my shoulder gently to give me the idea to lay back down. Mr. Leader turned to Matt and Heather and began speaking to them.

"_You're companion, he is ill, yes?" _Mr.Leader pointed at me and both of the subordinates pantomimed what I assumed was either impersonation of Igor, or swallowing a rather large insect, I couldn't be sure.

Heather seemed to grasp whatever it was they were getting at though, because she nodded vigorously and started pointing at me and then to my back.

"_His back is ill?" _Mr. Leader said something, and sounded really confused doing so. Then Matt seemed to catch on to what I have deemed to be the strangest game of charades I have ever witnessed. He then abruptly turned me over onto my stomach.

"OW! Matt, what the hell!"

"Shut up Bob, we're going to see if these pixie guys know anything about fixing back injuries." And with that, my view of the world was diminished to a rather lovely array of mosses. I felt the backpack come off, and then a hiss went up from several voices, some of whom I am guessing were the pixie men, or whatever they were.

Gentler than I expected, the sweatshirt was lifted off of my back and I felt large, strong, and surprisingly soft hands touching the wounds on my back. Then the Leader guy seemed to spout out orders.

"_Lalaitdhel, run back to the main party as quickly as you can and get the healer and a couple of horses, and make sure to tell the commander what is transpiring here."_

"_Yes sir."_

"_Golodhion, go see if you can find me some willow bark, and get me some water and kindling, leave you pack here, I'll see what I can do for the time being."_

"_Yes captain, right away."_

I heard some soft movement, and then I heard Heather rifling through one of the bags. I turned onto my side, despite what Matt and Mr. Leader was telling me. Or, at least, I think that's what Mr. Leader was saying, for all I know he was inviting me to his Beatles jam night. But Mr. Leader wasn't looking at me; he was watching Heather pull something out of one of the bags. Oh, the survival kit, good, I could do with some vicodin or something.

"Here," Heather handed the kit to him, "I don't know if you know how to use it, but it's something."

Leader guy just held it, rolled it over in his hands, and touched the zipper pull, not using it what so ever.

"Here, like this," Heather reached out again and zipped the kit open, and Mr. Leader exclaimed in shock.

Surely this Keebler reject has seen zippers before; even undiscovered tribes in Brazil have seen zippers. He took the kit back from Heather and began examining it, playing with the zipper. He eventually opened it all the way and spread it out on the ground.

I watched as Heather came around to the Leader and began pulling out different things and showing him what they were. He seemed to understand different tweezers, and surprisingly, forceps, clamps, and scalpels, but he didn't know what the stitched were until Heather opened one of the packs, then he nodded and pointed to my back. He then forced me back onto my stomach and I felt Heather's hands put what seemed to be Novocain like substance on parts of my back. I could hear Heather try to describe what it was. And then Matt laughed.

"What?"

"Heather just tried to describe Novocain."

"And?"

"She mimicked putting it on her arm, and then her arm being dead, like when it falls asleep."

"And that's supposed to be funny?"

"Well it was from this vantage point, scrooge."

"You'd be grouchy too if your back had been turned into Swiss cheese."

Ah, relief, I can feel my back go slightly numb, and then a pulling sensation, and the sound of cutting.

"What's going on back there, I tried to turn my head, but Mr. Leader scolded me and forced my head to turn around and look at Matt.

"_Do not move, I am removing these poorly done stitches, they are only making it worse."_

I looked up at Matt.

"What's going on?"

"The Leader of this fine company is removing your stitches, apparently we didn't do a good enough job for him," Matt patted my arm, "it seems we've actually found some helpful people out here."

"If they even are people," I replied darkly as Matt was telling Heather to get out some wipes for the Leader guy to clean his instruments with.

Eventually, I fell asleep to the tune of one of the other pixie dudes coming back with what sounded like water in our small cast iron pot and wood. I guess they were going to boil something. Well, if these guys were going to tend to my back, and not kill us, then I guess they're to be trusted, for now anyways. And I fell asleep.

I woke up to the sound of a crowd above me. Wait, a crowd, there's only supposed to be six people, Mark, Heather, myself, and those three pointy eared men. I tried to get up, but someone pushes me back down. I turn my head and find myself face to face with a stranger.

This guy looks just like the other three, only, not. He's certainly tall and blond with those freaky real looking Spock ears, but he looks different, I wouldn't say older necessarily, but his eyes seem to be deeper, like he's lived a lot longer. He mutters more rhythmic gibberish at me, gives me a warm smile, and then pushes my head back down onto the blanket. Wait, blanket, I don't remember lying on a blanket. I lift my head again and observe my surroundings.

I'm no longer in the forest, or, make that, in the same forest I last remember. This section of forest has fewer trees in it. It almost seems to be a meadow. I laid my head facing to the right, where I hear most of the action.

There's a sizable boulder in this meadow, and a herd of what looks to be clones of the guys who captured us earlier. Only some where slightly taller or shorter, and some had varying shades of brown and red hair mixed in with the blonds. I was in no state to count, but I'd guess twenty or so of the tall people were milling about. I noticed, none of them had any facial hair, and they all moved with the grace of a great cat. Graceful, but deadly looking, especially with all those, bows, arrows, swords, and spears. It's like I've come to a medieval reenactment for Scandinavian male models.

They all seemed to be talking to each other and glancing at something by the boulder in the middle of the meadow. Some of them moved and I was able to see what it was.

A really tall guy was talking to Matt and Heather. He had really long, impossibly golden hair, and had a very serious look on his unnaturally handsome face. Come to think of it, all the men in this group of weirdoes seem to be unnaturally gorgeous.

What? I'm not dumb enough not to notice when a guy is good looking. It's not like I'll ever tell them their good looking, or that I swing that way. But even a guy knows when another guy is good looking, and all of these men seem to leave the idea of good looking in the dust. My attention is brought back to my immediate surroundings when my doctor guy says something to me.

"_There young edain, you're all patched up for now. We'll have to get you back to the valley to make sure you get better. But for now, you'll be good to go."_

I nod, even though I'm not entirely sure what he's saying. Sounds like I'm okay to get up. Apparently that's not what he meant, as he tisks me, but still allows me to sit up none the less.

He hands me a bundle of cloth and I realize what it is. It's the sweatshirt Heather gave me, and it appears to be washed. There are only a couple of blood stains on the back that seemed to have stayed. The doctor guy is nice enough to help me put it on and props me up on some packs, allowing the small of my back to lean against it. Not like I'd want any more of my back to touch anything right now anyways. I rub my eyes a little and notice my glasses are gone. Great, now I'll not only have a killer back ache, but a head ache too. I begin looking around on the ground near me and I hear my name being called.

"Mr. Grey, you're awake!" I look up. Heather jogs over to me, Matt and the guy they were talking to following behind her. Heather comes right up to me and drops down on my left.

"Oh my gosh, we've been so worried for you, haven't we Mr. Thankos?"

Matt stands in front of me, next to the big blond guy and just smirks at me.

"It figures."

"What?"

"We had to carry you're butt around for two and a half days, and now that we're actually near our destination, you finally wake up."

"Sorry," I say, just a hint of sarcasm and mock hurt coming through.

"It is alright, now that your companion Robert is awake, we will have swifter progress down to the valley." I look up, the big blonde guy smiles at me, then squats down and extends a hand.

"Lord _Glorfindel_ of _Imladris_, it is a pleasure to finally speak to you." I take his hand.

"Hi, I'm Robert Grey, usually known as Bob, you speak English?"


	4. Chapter 4: Dig It

**Old Fogeys:**

**Chapter Four: "Dig It"**

**A/N:** Hello again! Lovely to see you all. I'm terribly sorry for all the delays. Getting things moving, working out a system with my lovely Beta. Waiting ever so (im)patiently for reviews. Speaking of which, please send more reviews my way, even if you don't like it, even if the review consists of one word or funny face, like Phinias and Ferb! "/ d"/ see how much fun that was? I always love them! (Reviews that is) Once again, italicized quotes are Sindarin. Also, I have a contest for everyone out there, leave a review and tell me this, where am I getting my chapter titles, and no cheating and just googling it. I'll keep a running tally and inform you all how many guessed correctly.

**Disclaimer:** I'm not genius enough to write the original work, just smart enough to keep the lawyers at bay by making sure everyone knows I don't own LOTR, or Phinias and Ferb, or any other pop culture reference that Bob may make. Also, I don't entirely own the original characters either, as they are based off of real people. Now, on with the show.

**Chapter Four: "Dig It"**

(flashback)

"Mr. Grey, you're awake!" I look up. Heather jogs over to me, Matt and the guy they were talking to following behind her. Heather comes right up to me and drops down on my left.

"Oh my gosh, we've been so worried for you, haven't we Mr. Thankos?"

Mark stands in front of me, next to the big blond guy and just smirks at me.

"It figures."

"What?"

"We had to carry you're butt around for two and a half days, and now that we're actually near our destination, you finally wake up."

"Sorry," I say, just a hint of sarcasm and mock hurt coming through.

"It is alright, now that your companion Robert is awake, we will have swifter progress down to the valley." I look up, the big blonde guy smiles at me, then squat down and extend a hand.

"Lord _Glorfindel_ of _Imladris_, it is a pleasure to finally speak to you." I take his hand.

"Hi, I'm Robert Grey, usually known as Bob, you speak English?"

(End flashback)

Lord Glory-finder smiled at me and cocked his head to the side.

"English, I'm not sure about that, but I do speak Westron."

"Well, whatever it is, it sure would be nice if your underlings spoke it too. It would keep unwary passerby less of a heart attack."

"I apologize if my _ellon_ startled you. There have been more orc attacks in the past few months than we care to have so close to our home."

"Orc attack, what's an orc?" I glanced quickly at Matt and Heather, Matt had the same curious expression on his face that I'm sure I had on mine, and Heather on the other hand, just looked like she was trying to remember what she had on a grocery list. Or, at least, that's what I equate with that look. Happens to Pam all the time, and then she calls to have me read off the list right in the middle of Sports Center. Can you believe that?

"Orcs, Master Robert, are those things you killed a few days ago, when you're back was turned into what your friend Master Matthew called, 'Swiss cheese'"

"Those things were real?" Glory-finder raised an eyebrow, why was he just raising an eyebrow? Would expressions put too many wrinkles on his face or something?

"As real as the rest of us."

"Seriously?"

"Mr. Grey-"

"Absolutely Master Robert."

"That can't be possible; those ears alone can't even be real."

"Mr. Grey-"

"Well of course there real, why do you think you were able to kill them?"

"Because we're in a horrible nightmare sent by a vengeful D. and D. playing student."

"Bob!"

"WHAT?" Seriously, this is the second time in recent memory that this kid has interrupted me right in the middle of when I'm having an important conversation about recent events.

"They're real Mr. Grey, the orcs, the ears, it's all real." Heather pointed at the nauseatingly blond Glory-finder, "Even his ears are real."

I turned to Matt, desperately hoping he will be able to explain this horrible Mt. Dew fueled nightmare.

"It's true," not helping, "his ears are real." I gave Mark a questioning look. Did he seriously want me to believe that we've suddenly stumbled across elves and orcs, and what pretty much seems to be a dungeons and dragons players dream come true, all in the Canadian Rockies!

"No way, this is a dream, right?" Glory-finder sighed and shook his head.

"Would you care to feel my ears?" Okay, that was seriously the strangest question I've ever been asked. Even for me, and I've been asked some seriously strange questions. It happens when you've gone to college in the 70's. Apparently my expression gave me away.

"I won't bite."

Tentatively, I stretched out a hand and gently poked one of the ears, and then touched it, and then gently tugged on it. It certainly felt like a real ear, and I couldn't see any scars or anything to suggest that the ears were a result of plastic surgery.

It's at that moment when I feel Glory-finders ears that I realize, this is real, those creatures, and these creatures.

"Where are we?" I sat back, dazed and a little bit frightened. Just because I'm a man doesn't mean I don't get frightened. How do you think I got all this grey hair?

"Middle-Earth," Glory-finder replied dryly.

"Well, we can agree on the earth part, not to sure about the middle bit."

"You're impossible Bob."

"Not as impossible as an Octopuses garden in the shade."

"The Beatles, really?"

"Beetles," Glory-finder looked rather confused, even deigning to put creases in his brow, "why would you wish to associate yourself with a small group of insects?"

Matt sighed and put a hand on Glory-finder's arm.

"Let me talk to him, Lord Glorfindel, this is a lot for us to take in."

"Of course Master Matthew, I shall take leave of your company. If you need me, I will be over by the rock with my lieutenants."

And with that, Glory-finder put his right hand to his heart, bowed his head, and then stood up and walked away with more grace than any self respecting male should ever have.

"Okay, seriously Matt, what's going on here?"

Mark gave me one of his serious faces, which never bodes well, ever.

"Honestly Bob, I have no idea. This all seems too strange to actually believe. But you saw that "orc" thing. There was no way that was fake. I don't know who did what or how, but they were real, as are these elf guys."

"But Matt, think about it, orcs, elves. Crap like that exists in like, George MacDonald and folklore and all that. It's not real."

"I know, but-"

"But what?"

Matt sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Those ears were real, and I watched them the past couple of nights while you were out of it. Bob," He looked me dead in the eye, "they glow."

I thought about it long and hard for a few minutes. Life seemed to go by in front of me, by I was still, like one of those out of body experiences pictured on TV and in movies. None of this made sense, elves don't exist. None of this exists. Or, it shouldn't anyways. So why was it here? Why were we here? How did we go from one second driving on a road, to the next second driving into a tree in the middle of nowhere? None of it made any sense at all, and I was becoming very scared.

I made up my mind then, I was just going to go with it until we got someplace where we could find a phone, and then I was going to phone the authorities. Or until we saw a centaur or unicorn, then I would believe. I finally spoke up

"Glowing, pointy eared people huh?"

Matt gave me a side long half smile.

"Yep."

"Sure we're not near Chernobyl?"

Matt threw back his head and laughed long and deep. I eventually joined in. Elves were skirting around us like we were crazies or something. At this point, might as well be.

"Mr. Grey?" I turned to look at Heather

"What was Chernobyl again?" What a buzz kill.

Dinner was a quiet affair. We sat around a campfire with Glory-finder and his commanders. Oh, and apparently his name is actually Glorfindel. Although, in my defense, it's an easy mistake to make, okay.

Matt, Heather and I once again ended up sleeping close together. The autumn night air made me feel like a kid again, camping out, eating rough, and sleeping on sleeping bags under the stars.

Unfortunately, my back, hips, and knees were reminding me of just how old I am. A thought ran through my head. What if we had somehow pulled a Star Trek season one episode 'Mirror Mirror' and had ended up in an alternate dimension? How would we get back home? I sat up and whispered to Matt, trying to get his attention.

He turned to me, rubbing his bleary eyes. He looked like a bear.

"You know, you look like a bear when you do that."

"Bob."

"Yeah Matt?"

"What?"

"What if we pulled a Star Trek?" That woke him up. He sat up and actually looked at me.

"What?"

"You know, what if we somehow unknowingly got pulled into an alternate dimension. We don't have an Enterprise, or a communicator, how will we get back home?"

"Bob."

"Yeah Matt?"

Mark grabbed his pillow and hit me with it.

"Ow!"

"Shut up and go to sleep."

I rubbed my chest where Matt had hit me and laid back down, thinking of Pam. What was she doing right now? Was she worried about me, like I was about her? I really wished she was here with me. It would make more sense that way.

The next day, we broke camp at the crack of dawn and began moving south again. We asked Glorfindel where we were going. His only reply was, "the valley". Some direction that was.

Overall, the day was pretty boring, until it got to be around twilight, and then we began to descend into a steep valley, the horses we were riding had a rough go of it. Oh, and can I say, I suck at riding horses, add to that, that my back was quite literally killing me. So I was having a miserable time of it.

But at least I was doing better than Matt, I had at least ridden a horse before, Mark, I'm pretty sure, had never even been to a stable. He looked so uncomfortable in those small, 'elvish' saddles. I could at least enjoy that.

What I couldn't enjoy was Heather though; she was being a perky little nuisance. She was up near the front, spouting off any question that popped into her little, teenage brain.

"How old are you?"

"Where are you from?"

"Do all elves glow?"

"Are all elves tall like you?"

I swear, I was almost hoping the horse would throw her off and she'd somehow be rendered mute, at least until we were no longer where her voice carried so well. Matt had the good sense to hang onto my glasses. Now at least I wouldn't have to suffer through too many headaches.

Very suddenly, the whole of the valley became exposed to us. I can honestly say, I haven't come across too many scenes that rival this one. The valley was deep, covered in a lush forest. A river ran from north to south in a waterfall which gave way to the actual river towards the south. The tops of a sizable city could be seen. If one could call it a city.

Judging by the vast array of buildings throughout the valley, one would guess that a great many people lived here. But the buildings didn't look like it. It all looked to be made of stone and wood, with a tile of some sort on the roofs. And the architecture, I've never seen anything like it. Really, I'm a history teacher; I've seen my share of historical architecture. The closest thing I could think of is Japanese, mixed with Art Nouveau style, mixed with something that resembled Celtic, and even then it didn't really come anywhere near it. I honestly couldn't figure it out. At least it was pretty. It's the sort of place I would love to take Pam to for a romantic weekend.

We reached a sort of narrow road, and made our way towards the largest part of the city. It was then that I noticed the bridge. Or, should I say, lack of bridge. The darn thing is so small; one horse at a time had to go across. Oh well, if it meant food and a bed, like Glorfindel promised, I'd do it. But I would definitely demand a shower for this. With Matt in front of me, I slowly managed to get my horse onto the bridge. Not that I did much though. The horse seemed to know its way.

Matt's horse though, didn't seem to keen on the bridge, I remember Glorfindel saying that his happened to be a younger horse; only its second time out on patrol if I recall.

My horse didn't seem to appreciate the hold up. Because it suddenly reached out and bit the other horse on the butt.

Matt's horse gave a startled whinny and tried to dash forward. And that's when the shit hit the fan.

Another elf's horse was directly in front of Matt's horse. It reared onto its hind legs in a panic.

Time seemed to slow as I saw Matt shout in fear and surprise. I watched him slip out of his saddle, his arms and legs flailing. He seemed suspended for a moment. His eyes caught mine. His eyes were wide with fear. He was never afraid; he was always the stronger of the two of us. Time moved even slower as he started falling.

There was no railing on the damn bridge, nothing so stop him falling down forty, fifty feet into the raging water. I saw him for a brief moment in the torrent before time sped up again. People were shouting, I vaguely heard Heather screaming. All I know is that somehow, I got off of my horse and was trying to jump off the bridge to save him.

Strong hands grabbed me and pulled me across the bridge to the other side. People were shouting and I vaguely saw more elves streaming in, either to help or see what was going on. It all seemed so disconnected as I flailed. Why were they holding me back, Matt was down in the river, drowning, and I had to help him, had to get him back.

Why were they stopping me? Didn't they know who he is, didn't they know that I had to save him? Don't they know that he's my best friend? Don't they know we have stay together. I have to save him, he-he has a wife and four boys at home. Why are they stopping me, don't they know? I-I don't know what to say i-if I don't bring him home.


	5. Chapter 5: Magical Mystery Tour

**Chapter Five: "Magical Mystery Tour"**

**A/N:** Howdy Everyone! Good to (theoretically) see you all again! I'm back, and look, I brought another chapter with me! Isn't that great! Not much going on in my life right now. Hopefully finding work soon, so that I'll have something to do besides wasting away in front of a computer for everyone else's enjoyment. Once again, italicized quotes are in Sindarin.

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, my request at Cadmus Labs to fuse my DNA and memories with that of Tolkien was denied, so I will never get to be a Professor Silvertree/Professor Tolkien hybrid. Woe is me.

**Chapter Five: "Magical Mystery Tour"**

(Flashback)

Strong hands grabbed me and pulled me across the bridge to the other side. People were shouting and I vaguely saw more elves streaming in, either to help or see what was going on. It all seemed so disconnected as I flailed. Why were they holding me back, Matt was down in the river, drowning, and I had to help him, had to get him back.

Why were they stopping me? Didn't they know who he is, didn't they know that I had to save him? Don't they know that he's my best friend? Don't they know we have stay together. I have to save him, he-he has a wife and four boys at home. Why are they stopping me, don't they know? I-I don't know what to say i-if I don't bring him home.

(End Flashback)

I struggled against the hands that held me and started cursing profusely at the top of my lungs. I vaguely heard my name being called, and slowly, after what seemed like an eternity passed, I began to listen to that voice.

"Robert, listen to me. Come back to us. Robert, come back to us."

I blinked. I was no longer at the edge of the waterfall. I was in a courtyard of some sort, with buildings and trees all around. All though, come to think of it, it's hard to see where the buildings end and nature begins.

"Wha-where am I?" I felt the unnervingly strong chest against my back, breathing deeply. I turned, Glorfindel was holding me tightly. He had let go of me enough so that I could turn around, but still had a hold of my arms. I guess in case I bolted or something.

"You are currently standing in the city center of the sanctuary of Imladris."

"Oh." I paused for a few moments as I let Glorfindel's words and the sounds of activity around me wash over me.

"And Matt?" Glorfindel looked uneasy at my question, and averted his gaze from me.

"We are doing all we can, Master Robert, but you have to realize the current is strong coming off the waterfall of the Bruinen, and we have also had some late season snow melt from the Misty Mountains. It may take us some time to find where Master Matthew washed ashore, if indeed he managed to."

"What do you mean if?" I growled, "Matt is strong and capable enough to get himself to safety!"

"I am sure he is, Master Robert, but the Bruinen is a strong and powerful river, many have perished in it. It is a possi-"

"No IT ISN'T!" I shouted at him, standing up suddenly, "Markus Nicholas Thanisos is the strongest, most determined man I've ever known, he will be okay." I thought about Vicki, his wife, suddenly, and his three boys, Thomas, Silas, Lukas, and Phillip.

'Dear God! Phillip is only eight. The other three are twelve, fourteen and eighteen. They can't grow up without their dad.'

Glorfindel gave me a worried frown as I felt myself go pale and made my way over to a staircase to sit down. The pain in my back had suddenly flared up; it brought my fifty-six years of life with it. I felt terribly old then. The gravity of it - if Matt didn't survived, how was I going to explain this?

I felt Glorfindel sit down next to me as I felt the all too familiar sting of tears. He kept a firm hold of my shoulders as I wept. I'm not afraid to admit it, I wept. Men feel the need to weep too, you know. I've always taught my sons that. It's not a bad thing to weep; you just need to make sure you're crying for the right reasons, of which, baseball is not.

I don't know how long I wept. But eventually, I saw Glorfindel's hand, and a handkerchief attached to it. I smiled a little and took it. I haven't used one of these since my own Grandpa used to bark at me to keep one on me whenever he saw me. I just about get done cleaning up my face when I hear footsteps stop in front of us.

"Mr. Grey?"

I looked up. Heather was standing there with another elf; I recognized him as the doctor of sorts from when I woke up yesterday. Heather looked at me with overlarge watery eyes, and I was reminded of just how young and innocent she was. She sniffled a little and I opened my arms to her. School policy be damned. This was not the time for remembering not to touch the students unless necessary. I'm pretty sure this was necessary anyway.

She sobbed and collapsed into my arms, her tears adding to the wet of my own tears on the front of my shirt.

"It's going to be okay Heather; it's going to be okay." I couldn't truly believe my own words, but I had to pretend to because my student just saw one of her teachers, one of the adults she saw regularly and respected, fall into a river, possibly to never be seen again. It really sucks being an adult sometimes. You just want to hide away and be miserable, but then you have kids to take care of who look up to you to lead the way. Even when you don't want to, or don't know how.

"Master Robert?"

I looked up to Glorfindel, who had stood and been joined by another elf, this one pale with very long black hair and very blue eyes.

"If you feel alright enough to move now, this is Lord Erestor, chief advisor of Lord Elrond, and seneschal of the House of Elrond, he will show you to your rooms, and get you settled in." I nodded and nudged Heather while Glorfindel and Lord Arrester (what kind of name was that anyway?) had a quiet conference together.

_"Their rooms are ready, yes?"_

_"Of course they're ready, what do you take me for?"_

_"Sorry friend, I just wanted to be sure."_

Erestor let out a sigh.

_"I have had rooms readied for them in the northeast wing, close to the dinning hall. Baths have been drawn for them, and I have instructed the cooks to have a warm meal ready for them when they are ready. Lord Elrond has also been notified on the current happenings and conveys his wish that he be notified should anything be found."_

Glorfindel nodded silently.

I managed to get Heather on her feet. This was difficult, because I had been sitting too long. I had to refrain from leaning on her just to get myself back up, stupid knees.

"We're ready now, Lord Glorfindel."

Lord Arrester's eyebrow shot up but he didn't say anything, simply motioned for us to follow him, immediately starting off up a slate, cobble stone street, higher and higher towards the tops of the grandest looking roofs in the city.

I held Heather's still sniffling form as we make our way past a high wall, its large wooden gates inlaid with silver in the shapes of two intertwining trees. I still could not recognize the style of art or architecture.

The buildings behind the wall were even more impressive than the ones outside and down the hill. And the idea of not knowing where the buildings end and nature begins was even more pronounced. I vaguely noticed other elves stopping what they were doing as we passed by, talking to their companions with sad looks in their eyes.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of twisting passages and labyrinthine corridors, we were shown to a couple of adjoining rooms. They were open and airy, leading out to a wrap around porch that went all the way around the building on the second story. They overlooked a secluded garden adorned with statues of some kind. I wasn't really paying attention, okay? Give me a break. I was again reminded that I would have loved to bring Pam here.

That of course got me thinking about wives, and Mark's wife, and then I felt the pain wash over me anew.

I just barely heard Lord Arrester giving us instructions on how to locate the bathing chambers at the end of the hall of our wing, and saying that when we were washed and ready, we would be brought down for some dinner. After dinner, his master would like to speak with us.

There was something else about, well, something, and then next thing I knew I was alone in my room. Or, not really alone; there was another elf dude in here, this one again tall, slimmer, with auburn hair and - I didn't believe it - were those the faint impression of freckles?

"Master Robert?"

"Huh?" Drat, I think he caught me staring at what probably was his strange elf skin anomaly.

"When you are ready, I shall assist you with the bath and with dressing. Lord Elrond is allowing you to borrow some garments until your own clothes may be washed."

"Oh, okay, uh." I stopped short, thinking to myself, 'what did he just say about bath and…help?'

"What was that you just said? I'm sorry; I don't think I heard you properly. Did you say, 'help with your bath'?"

"Indeed, Master Robert."

"Son, I'm fifty-six years old." I reached out and patted him on the back, "I think I know how to take a bath by now."

Mr. Elf seemed taken aback at being called 'son', but any annoyance was covered by his smiling at some sort of private joke. One that I didn't know about. It's always annoying when you don't get the joke.

"Something the matter, son?"

My elf gave me a look that I couldn't quite figure out, and then burst out laughing.

"Uh, what?" Okay, I was confused now. Why was he laughing? Not like I couldn't do with a good laugh now, but seriously, what the hell?

"I do apologize, Master Robert, but your chosen title for me is something that I – as I'm sure would any of my kind – find exceedingly comical."

"Oh? Why is that?"

It was his turn to be surprised. Mr. Elf looked at me in a fresh light and asked, "Have you had no dealings with elves before?"

"No, can't say as I've ever heard much about elves before."

Mr. Elf smiled even more knowingly now and put a hand on my shoulder. "Master Robert, I am going to explain this to you as simply as I can, then."

I thought to myself, 'What, they're all gender neutral or something? Wouldn't surprise me.'

"We elves are not like you humans. For one, we do not age." I looked at him; what was he getting at?

"We are immortal; we don't die unless it is by fire, battle, or the pain of a broken heart."

"What, seriously?" He had to be joking.

"I am completely serious, Master Robert. I myself am nine hundred fifty-seven years old."

My witty response was to blink at him very rapidly.

"We elves are blessed by Eru Illuvatar himself with the gift of immortality."

Still more blinking on my end. Mr. Elf sighed and smiled at me. "Thus, your calling me 'son' was highly humorous in my view."

"Well, don't I feel especially asinine."

Mr. Elf gave me a confused look.

"Meaning that I feel humbled and more than a little bit ridiculous." He chuckled.

"Robert Grey, I usually go by Bob, but you can call me sonny if you like." Mr. Elf threw his head back and laughed heartily at that.

"And I am Glamhirel."

"Glamhirel," I practiced. Sounding out the incredibly odd name out slowly, "That's a weird name."

"Not half as bad as Robert, I'm afraid."

"Oh, touché."

"Beg pardon?"

"Never mind."

I turned and looked around my room, it really was rather nice looking. "So, where is the bathroom?"

"The bathing chamber is at the very end of the hall to your left."

"Ah."

"Lord Erestor said your back was injured, would you like help with it while you bathe?"

"Ah, no, I think I'll be okay on that front."

"But it is your back that is hurt."

I turned to look at him and caught the gleam of mischief in his eyes.

"Exactly."

I turned to see if there was anything in the toiletries department in my bag. I hadn't seen it brought up, and yet there it was on the bed.

"There are plenty of supplies in the bathing chambers, if that is what you require."

I turned to look at him again, what, did elves read minds too. I asked him that, he just snorted. I hadn't thought elves could snort.

"I shall fetch you some clean clothes for the time being while you are bathing."

"Okedokie."

"Okedokie?"

"Where I'm from, it means okay, you know: alright, very well then, things like that."

"I see," Glamhirel raised an eyebrow and gave me a half smile, the kind of look you give crazy people, "well then, I shall see you when you return from your bath, Master Robert. Okedokie?"

I smiled at him; he's a smart kid. I knew he'd eventually get the hang of it.

The bath was very nice. So where the bath chambers, come to think of it. The room was large and made of stone, circular in shape, with a large, sunken section in the middle of the floor. I was surprised to find that the water was hot when I stepped in. My theory was that they had a system like that of the ancient Romans, with a network of pipes carrying water by the influence of gravity, through a boiler room to be heated, then to the bathroom…house…thing…where the grateful history teacher washes up. And then it gets flushed downhill again when he's done.

And oh did it feel good. Washing my back was rather hard, though. I am 56 years old, and while I am still a handsome devil, my body may not be in its absolute prime anymore, but let's just say I don't want any of those elves to have to help me and get the wrong impression about me. Because I am still strong and handsome, just ask my wife, honest.

Back in my own room, Glamhirel is noticeably absent, which I am fine with. No need for any annoyingly trim and fit elves to catch a glimpse of my rugged manliness; might overtax their delicate systems or something. I did notice that Glamhirel had laid out clothing of sorts for me.

There was a pair of slacks, or breeches – I thought that was the appropriate term for this type of legging. There was also a shirt of some kind. Cotton by the feel of it. Sort of reminded me of the shirts pioneers wore. There was also some sort of other shirt, like an overgrown vest. Oh, and it was made of wool, with a stamped pattern around the collar and ends of the sleeves. Thin wool socks and a type of leather moccasin with fancy embroidery completed my new look.

I looked at myself in the polished bronze mirror. 'Oh if Pam could see me now, she'd be laughing hysterically. I really look like a hippy. All I need is the bandana.'

I tried to do something, anything with my hair. Not that there's much you can do for long, almost shoulder length (not to mention grey) hair skirting a sizable bald patch. I could have sworn the last year I'd still had some brown in my hair, where did it go? Just this past Christmas I grew my beard out and my son Patrick called me Dumbledore. Hurt much?

A knock on my door drew me out of my self-pity.

"Yes?"

"Master Robert, may I come in?"

"Sure thing, Glam squad."

Glamhirel came in and simply raised an eyebrow at me, choosing not to comment on my cunning nickname.

"I was hoping to catch you before you dressed completely. You still need to have your back bandaged." He explained, raising the tray with medical supplies for my benefit.

Ah, that would explain the dull throbbing sensation I'm currently feeling.

"Oh yeah, I forgot."

"Forgot?"

"It was a really good bath."

Glamhirel just laughed to himself as he motioned for me to strip and neatly laid out the supplies for my back.

"So," I spoke after several minutes of Glamhirel silently working on my back, "nice place this is you got here."

"Thank you Master Robert."

"Bob."

"Beg pardon?"

"My name, most people call me Bob. I only get called Robert if my wife is especially angry with me."

"Very well then, Bob. You are married?"

"Yeah, thirty-nine years next year. We have five kids, and soon to be five grandchildren."

"You are blessed then Bob, then again, it is like the race of men to rush through their short lives."

"Well what about you? Aren't you married?"

"Nay, I am unmarried still."

"Not even a girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?"

"You know, a special lady you like to take moonlit strolls with."

"Well, there is-" He stopped short. I patiently waited for him to go on. Well, maybe not so patiently.

"Well, who," I turned back to look at him. He had a faraway look in his eye.

"Iavasriel, she is a potter down in the city. Her home is next to mine."

"Oh and just how pretty is this Ivan-reel?"

"Iavasriel."

"That's what I just said."

Glamhirel just sighed and shook his head.

"She is a lovely lady. However, she longs to go to the Undying lands to be with her kin. I had hoped she would stay with me here in Arda for a while longer yet."

"Undying lands?"

"It is the place that we elves go to escape this world. The time of the elves is ending; it is now time for the mortal races of this world to lead. However," he continued, a sigh escaping him, "once we leave these shores, we may never come back."

"Why not?" I felt inexplicably somber again.

"It is just," Glamhirel gestured with his hands, obviously thinking of what to say, "It is like dying, but staying alive."

"Huh?"

He sighed again.

"My people are tied to this land, and since our time is ending, if we were to stay, we would simply begin to fade away, until we were nothing more than memories ourselves."

I sat in silence while Glamhirel put away the medical supplies.

"That doesn't make a lick of sense."

"Lick of sense?"

"You heard me."

"Indeed," Glamhirel raised that insufferable eyebrow of his again and turned to leave.

"If you would like to dress and follow me; I believe Tauriavas has finished helping Miss Heather with her bath and is ready to have me escort the both of you to your dinner."

"Oh, sure." I quickly put my shirt and leather vest back on and followed him out the door. Down the hall, I saw an equally tall woman with brown hair escort another person out of another doorway. It actually took me a minute to figure out it was Heather. She looked so different. She looked shorter and smaller somehow. Probably a combination of the fact that the elves were ridiculously tall, so her dress looked a bit long for her. It was also the dress itself, a nice burnt orange piece with long sleeves and embroidered leaves all over it. Certainly beat the pajamas I usually saw her wear.

"Hey, Mr. Grey," she put a stray curl behind an ear, "you look weird in that."

"Not half so much as you do."

She halfheartedly stuck her tongue out at me. Clearly she still wasn't feeling up to snuff. Not that I was any better, but I've had more practice at keeping how I really feel at bay.

More twists, turns, staircases, and hallways later, we came to what had to be the house kitchens. A large, bustling room with lots of fireplaces and elves; everywhere there were elves. All of them tall, with impossibly nice long hair and pointy ears. Made one wonder, how often does one find hair in ones food? I mean, I know they all have it braided, but it has to happen at some point, right?

Glamhirel showed us to a little corner where a table and a couple of chairs were situated. Heather and I sat as a passing elf placed a couple of wooden bowls and a platter of puffy, steaming rolls between us. Another elf came by with a couple of mugs of what looked to be cold cider. Two more elves were just coming round with bowls and what looked to be a pot of soup when Glamhirel decided he wished to eat with us and swiped a stool from an elf that was just about to use it to sit and peel potatoes. The resulting elf-landing-on-butt-unexpectedly and potatoes flying everywhere was rather hilarious. The looks the other two elves gave him, however, where not so much funny as murderous.

_"Terribly sorry."_

_"Glamhirel!"_

_"I said I was sorry."_

_"Ugh."_

_"Typical Glamhirel, watch were you go, young one."_

Glamhirel looked rather sheepish throughout the rest of our meal. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure that was our meal, some sort of mutton stew. It was really good. I didn't get seconds, though. I'm not sure if these elves understand the concept of seconds.

Glamhirel stood at the end of our supper and had us follow him through more winding, open hallways and equally spacious rooms and antechambers. We eventually found ourselves in the doorway of a large, domed room. A library by the looks of it. I just barely noticed Glamhirel knock on the doorway and announce our presence.

"Come in."

Boy, if that wasn't an authoritative voice, I don't know what is.

Glamhirel proceeded to lead us into the library and up a winding staircase to a second story where we were presented to three elves. Glorfindel, Arrestor, and a third elf. He must have been the source of the authoritative voice. The guy practically reeked of power and nobility. He stood almost as tall as Glorfindel, with long brown hair, a high forehead, and the most interesting eyebrows I have ever seen. I think I shall name this one Spock. Seriously, he could give that Vulcan a run for his money. But he was still beautiful, in a weird, male, noble-esque sort of way. (I did say Mark was the better of the two of us in the stringing of the words and making sentences out of them.)

It was only when he (Spock) motioned for us to sit that I saw the other two chairs seated around the table. We sat down with Snap, Crackle, and Pop, and Glorfindel made introductions all around.

"Master Robert Grey, Lady Heather Kender, may I introduce you both to Lord Elrond, master of Imladris, onetime shield bearer of Erenion Gil-Galad? I believe you have already been introduced to Lord Erestor, yes?"

I nodded, adding a 'how do you do' for good measure.

"Hail and well met. It is good to finally meet the two of you." Lord El-Dorado says, rather stiffly I might add.

"Um, yes, thank you very kindly for taking us in like this."

"Yes, thank you, sir." Heather pipes up.

El-Dorado smiled at her, "It is no trouble at all. This place was built with passing way-farers in mind."

"Well, all the same sir, we thank you anyway. I'm not sure where we'd be if it wasn't for your men…er, elves." I scrunched up my face. It certainly was odd, having to specify like that. The whole situation was making me uncomfortable, like I was going up before the members of the board or something.

"You are most welcome. However, that brings up the reason for this meeting," here El-Dorado sat up even straighter in his chair and leaned forward, "my ellon say that they found you in a cave, cleaning up from an orc attack, ill prepared for a journey. Your clothes and accent are foreign to us. From whence do you hail?"

Now here was the kicker, what did I tell them? I could hardly believe myself that we had somehow stumbled into a strange world. That we had pulled a Star Trek "Mirror, Mirror" and had ended up in the wrong place. Which unfortunately brought up a rather awful thought in my mind. If we pulled a "Mirror Mirror", did we then have another copy of us from this world running around our world? Did I have an evil twin running around with my grandchildren? I pulled myself back to the topic at hand. Honesty is the best policy, but honestly, I didn't know if I should be honest. What would Heather think of me if I wasn't? I couldn't go being a bad example just because I was in a stressful situation.

"It's a long story sir," I took a deep breath.

'Here goes'.

"Master Matthew, Lady Heather, and myself, we do not know how we came about this land. We hail from a very different land. He, Master Matthew that is, and myself, we are educators, Lady Heather is one of our pupils. We were taken in a flash of blue light and woke up in the mountains, which was frightening, since there are no mountains in our land." I was doing my best, since I was making this up as I went along. I can't imagine trying to explain the reality of it. I can't believe it myself. I just hope Matt's story co-oberates with mine, and that Heather won't do something stupid.

Snap, Crackle, and Pop sat back in their chairs and looked at us for a moment, then looked at each other and started talking to each other in that gibberish language of theirs.

Finally, they turned back to us.

"That is not precisely how Master Matthew told it to me, you know."


	6. Chapter 6: Glass Onion

**Chapter Six: "Glass Onion"**

**A/N:** Hello all, here is the re-reedited chapter six. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** As hard as I tried, as much I begged, Dr. Emmet Brown would not let me use neither the Delorian nor its flux capacitor to go back and take credit for Tolkien's work, woe is me.

**Chapter Six: "Glass Onion"**

(Flashback)

Snap, Crackle, and Pop sat back in their chairs and looked at us for a moment, then looked at each other and started talking to each other in that gibberish language of theirs.

Finally, they turned back to us. Glorfindel spoke.

"That is not precisely how Master Matthew explained it to me, you know."

(End Flashback)

"It-it's not." I stuttered. Well crap, now what was I going to do? I chanced a glance toward my student, who had a sincerely confused look on her face.

"No, but your story is simply shorter and more to the point than Master Matthew's, and for that, I am thankful."

"Oh," Heather and I turned to look at each other, she could only offer me a shrug, "well, alright then. Is there anything else you lords wanted from us. Do we need to discuss terms of payment for our lodgings, and where we might find supplies, and possibly help, in our search of Matt?"

El-Dorado and his two counselors-advisers-whatever they are- turned to one another and quickly conversed in their language before turning back to us.

"What would you like to know, Master Robert. The Bruinen is unusually strong for being this late in the year. My _ellon_ are searching now as we speak. You yourself have just said that you are not knowledgeable of these lands. What do you suggest I do?"

I thought about it for a long while as they all sat looking at me. I had a responsibility to Matt's family. The decision was obvious.

"Allow me to go search for Matt."

Several eyebrows shot up at that, and Heather gave me a questioning look.

"Mr. Grey?"

"Look, I know you all believe him to be dead, but I know Matt better than you, I can guarantee you he's washed up on a river bank somewhere, lost and not knowing how to get back to us, and I'm not going to rest until I find out where he's at."

El-Dorado leaned forward with his elbows on the table, his ridiculously long sleeves trailing down, "I do not deny that there may be strength in your friend, but we are already looking for him, more search parties are being sent out in the morning to look for him."

"That's nice," I said, sarcasm dripping off the words. Boy, I needed to go to bed, I was really beginning to get grouchy, "but in the meantime, what happens if we find a way to get back to our homeland, what do I tell his wife, Vicki, or his four sons, Thomas, Silas, Lukas, and Phillip? 'Oh, I'm sorry, you're husband and father drowned in a river in a land so far from here, that we know not of it, so you'll never be able to see him again, or even bury him properly. So sorry.' Yeah, that'll work wonderfully El-Dorado."

Lord Elrond gave me a quizzical look as Lord Glorfindel mouthed the words, 'El-Dorado'. Lord Erestor gave me a look, "It would be wise to remember the name of your host, Mast Robert."

"Peace, Lord Erestor. Our language and names are more than foreign to Master Robert. However, to clarify, I am Lord Elrond Half-elven, Lord of Imladris."

Elrond stood and straightened his robes before walking around the table to me, and extended an arm to touch my shoulder and lead me off a ways towards one of the many balconies, "and if you insist on finding him, wait at least a couple of weeks, then we will see if any of the ellon would be willing to go with you on an extended search down river. In the meantime, you and your young pupil rest here, and recover your strength. We can discuss how to board your charge here whilst you search. I can see already that the wounds in your back are bothering you. I can take a look at them if you so desire. I am a healer of some renown."

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. My back really did hurt, besides, I felt there wasn't much more we could do tonight. So I nodded and bid Heather good night as Elrond instructed Erestor to escort Heather back to her room and asked Glorfindel to send for someone when Elrond was done looking at my back.

Elrond gestures for me to walk with him and sets off down another corridor. Another obnoxiously long, labyrinth corridor which made one hopelessly lost if they weren't paying attention. I told Elrond as such. He chuckled and said that it was designed so that people would slow down and take in the beauty of nature surrounding them, helping them to relax. Great, now I can declare that it's not just a pain in the butt, but a sneaky pain in the butt.

We ended up in what was quite possibly the nicest looking hospital I had ever seen. The walls were a nice, soft yellow, and the beams were a creamy white, making graceful, arching patterns on the ceiling, the room itself was quite large, with thin rods criss crossing the ceiling to make a grid pattern so that curtains could be hung to create privacy for the patients if they wanted it. I could see a couple of tall shapes resting on beds down at the far end, and a pretty elf lady was checking on one of them.

"What happened to those two?" I asked as Elrond instructed me to take off my shirt while he set up a tray of different jars and strips of linen.

"The one Lirieth is attending to was shot by a poisoned orc arrow in the abdomen while out on patrol, the other fell off his horse when it was startled during a hunt, and he ended up getting gored in the leg by the boar he and his party were hunting." I grimaced for them, seems even elves could get injured around here. That posed the question, how was I going to survive here?

"Well," Elrond said as I felt him work on my back, "for getting only the adequate care my _ellyn _could give to you, I'd say this will patch up quite nicely. You only have a few sizable gouges in your skin. The rest is all scrapes and scratches. Things that will heal well enough on their own. Now, you will need to have someone else wash your back for you, as the wounds will need to be bathed regularly, I was informed that you would not have another wash your back for you. You must not do this again. Modesty is of very little concern for the elves, we will not judge you. I would recommend using lots of mint oil in your bath to help with the inflammation and infection. Beyond that, there is not much else I can do for you for now." Elrond and I sat in silence for a while and he rubbed mint oil on my back. The sounds of the female elf checking in on the other two patients was the only noise in there, until, as usual, I broke the silence. I don't do not talking well, probably the teacher in me.

"Elrond, I mean, Lord Elrond. What's going to be done about finding Matt?"

There was more silence while Elrond wrapped strips of linen around my torso. Finally, he spoke.

"We will do what we can. The river is unusually strong for this late in the year. But if you say he is strong enough to get himself to a shore. Then I will send search parties out to look for him further down the Bruinen." He helped me get back into my shirt, as the bandages were hampering my attempts, and I turned to him, looking him in the eye.

"I really do want to go with the search parties. Help them find him." Elrond opened his mouth to contradict me, but I beat him to it.

"He might have been hurt, might not remember who he is. I would have an easier time recognizing if he'd left a marker showing where he had been, or convincing him of himself if he has amnesia Please," I gave him my most solemn look, which, surprisingly, looks very similar to ones I give to students when I'm really desperate to get them to do their homework so that they pass and get out of my class, "he's my best friend, and I owe him that much. What would I say to his wife and kids if I didn't bring him home."

Elrond gave me a sad look. There was something in his eyes, like he knew something I didn't know.

"Very well, Master Robert."

"Bob."

"Beg your pardon?"

"My name, I prefer to just be called Bob, the only person who calls me Robert is my wife when she's especially angry with me."

Elrond blinked a little at that.

"Very well then, Master Bob, I give you free leave to accompany the search parties. But not for a few more days, you would not be able to ride a horse for very long with your back in this shape. I honestly don't know how you managed to spend all day riding a horse through less than forgiving terrain with your back in that position."

"Shear force of will," I responded quickly, "and the knowledge that I would have a hot bath and good food when it was all over with."

Elrond let out a hearty laugh and patted me on the arm.

"That is the mulish stubbornness of men, I am well aware that where other races would give in, they would keep on going."

"You seem to know much about us lowly, mulish men," I questioned, jokingly.

Elrond chuckled again and lead me back down the hall where we came from.

"I am a half elf, Master Bob; both of my parents were half man, half elf. I and my twin brother, Elros, were given the choice if we wanted to be counted of the race of elf, or man. I, as you can see, chose to be counted among the first born, whereas my brother Elros chose to be counted as a man."

I thought about that for all of two seconds.

"But why would anyone choose to die?"

"Why would anyone choose to watch while everything you know, the friends and family you love, fade away and die, while you remain, never to keep those that you cherish."

That shut me up for a bit. Well, a short bit anyways. Another thought came to my mind, it comes with being an adult and having those pesky responsibilities.

"Who will take care of Heather while I am out searching for Matt?"

"I am sure my daughter, Arwen, would love to keep Lady Heather in her company."

"You have children?"

"Yes, three. Twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and my daughter, Arwen Undomiel."

"I have five kids. Three boys, Brian, Leland, and Veryl, and two daughters, Cheryl and Bridget. They've given me five grandchildren too."

"Then you are well blessed. Alas, I have doubts as to whether or not I will ever have grandchildren."

"That's a shame, are they just not interested?"

We were at the door to my room. How did we get back here anyways?

"That, Master Robert, is a long story which we will have to wait until we have more time. For now, you must sleep, tomorrow; we will put together a plan of where to search."

"Very well then Lord Elrond. Thank-you," I paused, feeling like a teenager being dismissed from his principal, "and have a good night, Sir."

Elrond bowed his toward me and swept off down the corridor without a sound. How do they do that?

The next morning was bright sunny, and I hated it. Sure, the bed was really comfortable, the clothes Glamhirel laid out for me were really nice, but I still have arthritis in my back, knees, and hips. Thus, getting out of that nice comfy bed was just as excruciating as it is back home.

"By the Valar, I can actually hear your joints creaking and cracking!" Glamhirel exclaimed as he helped me into my shirt and long leather vest. I shot him a dirty look.

"You age like I do, and you'll be lucky to be moving as well as I am." A thought occurred to me.

"Do you have any sort of paths or tracks where I can run? I run five miles every morning back home, just to stay in shape, it would be nice to have somewhere to run here."

"Hm, that is an interesting request. There are paths all throughout Imladris where you can run. I'm sure it will be alright for you to use them. I shall show you them after breakfast and the tour."

"Tour?"

"Oh yes, Lord Erestor instructed me to give you and Lady Heather a tour of the House of Elrond today. I'll even show you the rest of Imladris if you like."

"That'd be nice. Heather could use something to occupy her mind, not which that's not hard to do anyways, that kid has an unnatural love of learning, and it's sort of disturbing."

Glamhirel gave me a confused look as we set off to collect said topic of conversation and get to the dinning hall for breakfast.

"Mast- Bob," he started, "was I not informed correctly when it was said that you are a teacher?"

"Hm? No, I'm a teacher."

"Then why would you think it strange that a student would want to learn?"

"Well," I began, not quite knowing where I would go with this, "where we are from, it is mandatory for children to go to school. Most kids don't want to go, or at least, don't want to go to the classes they don't like. I teach history, it's a subject I'm sure most students would like to _become_ history. But not Heather, she has this love of learning, and reading, or anything which leaves her with only herself for company as far as I've seen,

I've seen that girl read books ranging in topic from Ancient History to 'How To' books on knitting. For a teacher that's used to seeing kids not care all that much, it's just alien."

Speaking of alien, there she is now, another book under her arm, and another dress that's just too big for her thin frame.

"We were just talking about you," I started, trying to keep the conversation light. I could tell by the circles under her eyes she slept about as much as I did last night, "what book are you reading now?"

"This? It's an encyclopedia of machines from the industrial revolution, it includes detailed diagrams. It's quite fascinating."

"Whatever you say, Spock."

Ugh, it's such a pain when you're the only one who gets the pop culture references. Glamhirel looked very confused. Heather, fortunately, only mildly so.

"Fascinating, it was Spock's catchphrase." I said for Heather's benefit. I wouldn't even bother trying to explain how the heck TVs work to Glammy. We needed to stick to our story if we were going to survive.

When Glamhirel did ask what this 'show' was we were talking about, Heather looked to me for a suitable answer.

"It's a play from our country, very popular with certain crowds."

"Ah, I see." We continued on in silence for a short time before we came to a large set of doors, behind which much noise could be heard.

"This is the main eating hall, breakfast is served fairly early in the morning. So I wouldn't suggest sleeping in late. He opened the door and gestured for us to go first.

It was a very large hall, with many long tables, packed with elves, and what looked to be a smattering of people, honest to goodness people, and, was that, in the corner?

"Dwarves?" Heather questioned.

"Have you never seen a dwarf, Lady Heather?"

"We don't have dwarves where we come from. Can I meet them?"

"I wouldn't bother, it's not like you'd be missing much. However, I can introduce you if you like."

"Oh, can I? I've read about dwarves in stories, but I didn't think they actually existed."

"Most assuredly they do, their smell renders them all but impossible to ignore."

"You don't like them, Mr. Glamhirel?"

"Elves and Dwarves don't get along that entirely well, even when they're on the best of terms, Lady Heather."

"Why? Have they done something to you?"

"To me personally, no, but there is bad blood between our races."

"Well that's not right." Heather exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips.

"Heather, not now. You can discuss civil rights and equality another time." I muttered to her, guiding her to an empty seat in the middle of the room.

"But that's not right, disliking someone based on something they themselves didn't do."

Glamhirel rubbed his hands together in an agitated fashion without further comment and waited till we were seated before bidding us adieu.

We sat by ourselves in the hall, eating breakfast and listening to the conversations swirling around us. Finally, Glamhirel came to get us as the crowds were thinning out.

"Well, shall I show you around the House of Elrond now?"

I suddenly remember why there was a little voice in the back of my mind telling me to lay of all the food. Curse you, tasty bread.

Little sleep, aching hips, cracking knees, Swiss cheese for a back, and now a really full stomach and soon to be really full bladder, and we were going to be walking up and down this hilly valley on a tour? Why oh why did I leave the blood pressure medicine at home?


End file.
